St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1887-12-08

Wen take care Oh We. mere, jim, take
off his clothes while 1 lift him. Gin
gerly, now there, there" And hav-
ing gotten his patient into position, he
proceeded to set the broken bones
Snow, then, you'll do, for tonight.
Swallow this" He poured out an
opiate into the spoon Aunt Polly had
brought, and set it to the mans lips.
"Now, Aunt Polly, don't you let him
talk he won't want to for while; but
if he wrestles round give him twenty
more drops out of the vial. Some
body'll have to set with him tonight"
''I will, and soil JIM" promptly
answered Aunt Polly.
So the doctor went home, and the two
took up their watch.
1t was young man, tall and hand
some, who lay there. His hair was
close cropped, but long silky mus
tache and beard covered his face with
dark luxuriance. His eyes were clos
ed, and the well-cut features looked
like marble in that dim light and their
own pallOr.
Jim eyed him with an odd express
sion. This was new experience to
him. He could not quite understand
how a strong young fellow could lie in
a moment so inert; so passive.
Mother Goose came to his aid. Soft
ly he murmured, to tune of his own,
"'Jack fell down
And cracked his crown,
And Jill"
She didn't, nuther. The amt no JILL"
"YOu shut upP" said Aunt Polly, in
fierce whisper that startled her eOh-
rade into silence.
1t was long night, but the watchers
were faithful.
Dency and FlOrinda were in the
kitchen at an early hour; Jim had
curled up on the hay -mOw to think out
certain matter, and gone to sleep
there in spite of himself; but the loud
peals of the dinner horn aroused him,
and hastily brushing off the hay, he
entered on the scene he had so often
dreamed of.
Yes; there was the long table spread
with clean white cloths, two great tur-
keys stood side by side at the head,
and behind them DR.. Allen was brand
ishing his carver. A boiled ham Occu
pied the next place, beyond it was a
vast chicken pie, and at the other end
of the table were the roast ducks, set
before old Cephas, while all the space
betw cen were filled up with potatoes,
onions, turnips, cranberry sauce, pick
les, and plates of bread, both white
and brown. "The poor and the MAIN
ed and the halt and the blind" for
whom this feast was spread, the waits
of the hedges and highways, were
ranged along the sides of the table,
clean, smiling, and furnished up to a
Of
careless natures.
"Let us be thankful" said the doc
tor, altering a short grace, and then
falling upon the turkeys.
FlOrinda and Dency served the ia
bles !; they were to have their dinner
set aside for them, and take it with
Mrs. Pratt, who would be "spelled" by
Jim in her care of the sick man. Words
wOnld fail to describe the thorough en-
.jOyment with which that Thanksgiving
dinner was eaten; epicures who daily
pick and choose their Wand from the
choicest markets know nothing OF
foods true sweetness and SAVIOR
that is blessing reserved for those
who well know hunger and thirst.
Here, when the meats were disposed
of, there were still keen appetites left
for the pies, the cake, the strong tea
and rich coffee. In an almost gOrged
condition the guests at last left the Ia
BILE, and Dency went to call Mrs. Pratt
for she could not find Jim. He was
hiding behind the shed door, and as
soon as she disappeared out popped his
queer head, and he called i'll an audi
Die tone, "Miss Florindy-say, come
here % FlOrry went wondering.
I.a l,nn
the loft long o. me. I've got your
Thanksgivin' up there"
Florinda laughed and followed him
they came through the dim little loft
into the unlatcled door of the spare
chamber just as Dency and Mrs. Pratt
had left the other door to go down the
front stair.
"There % said Jim, ''there's your
best bed. Hooray!
Jack fell down
And cracked his crown,
And Jill came tumblin' after ]!
The figure on the bed raised its
head, Florry made one step forward,
and then rush, aud she was in Harry
Dennis's arms /; neither beard nor pal
Tor disguised him from her faithful WIS.,
ion, her longing heart.
Yes, it was just like IL story; but
where do people get all their stories 7
Are they not incidents of life And
do they ever dare to write out the
most startling and sensational they
knOwq | do not After all, was it
very odd that Harry, Fastening home
to Thanksgiving after one of those har-
rowing experiences of shipwreck, res
cue on an outward bound ship, fever
from exposure and starvation expe
riences which slaughter so many, but
do spare a few, should be again wreck
ed-Only from q horse this timer No
more voyages, though, for Harry, just
yet, and by the time he was sound
man again the doctor had taken him
into his good graces, and persuaded
him to become his pupil and succeed
him i'm the care of Dalton peoples
bodies, if not their souls.
Who shall paint FlOrinda's joy 2
There are words for it, but they are
faint there are no words to image,
even, the deeper, purer, holier rapture
of the mothers heart, to whom, widow
ed and lonely, and so long hopeless,
her only son had returned. For what
love dares compare itself with "a moth |
er'sR What other does the Creator
with His Ownf Only less
tender, and exhaustless is it
than the infinite heart of God.
And other people were thankful too,
for never again was the poor farm at
Dalton suffered to pass by Thanksgiv-
ing day without celebrating it. Harry
and Florinda took care of that.
And the day after this Thanksgiving
Jim stalked up to old Cephas, with al
air of exultatiOn and ca
pacity.
''There now didn't l tell We we'd